Reflections in a Broken Mirror sequel to Shards
by Seguchi Touma
Summary: Yaoi - 1x3x4, 2x5 - It's a year after the events of Shards. Heero stands accused of murdering the other Gundam pilots. Treize has returned. Who is innocent, and who is guilty?
1. Prolouge Walking on Broken Glass

Title: Reflections in a Broken Mirror (Sequel to Falling Shards)  
Part: 1/?  
Pairings: 1x3x4, 2x5  
Disclaimer : Last time I slapped a yaoi warning on a story, no one got laid in it. Just for safety's sake though, call it a yaoi one. I might never get them finally in the bed, but there's usually lots of groping, kissing, and so on. This story is dedicated to the HeeronQuatresML and the 4x1-1x4ML especially to jefcat (let me miss a deadline and I will be reminded), Caer (first person to ever want to post my GW drivel), bearilou, Alec (keeper of my Duo when he escapes), Ana, Gal, Sky, Rain (ONNA!) and more recently, swythangel, Kasra (she of the Golden Click), Iczer, Dim Genesis, and Caspian who I must get readdicted to GW. These are the people that keep me writing. I don't own the GW boys, just wish I did. Don't sue me unless you plan on housing two Dachshunds and an evil cat. I'm a writer. I have no money. This takes place one year after Falling Shards. As always, I rarely respond to feedback since I don't know what to say outside of storytelling, but I do love and crave it.   
  
  
Prologue – Walking on Broken Glass  
  
Relena's hand rested on Millardo's arm as they watched silently. All over the city, many people were doing the same. Workplaces had ground to a halt a few minutes before noon as viewscreens were turned on to hear the decision. Resting her head against her brother's shoulder, the woman's face bore signs of sleeplessness. Dark hollows lay beneath her eyes, giving them a sunken and ill appearance. She had lost weight recently from not eating, leaving her expensive gowns hanging loose on her body. Even her chestnut hair had dullness to it that hadn't been seen before even in her worst of times.  
  
Her brother wrapped an arm around Relena's shoulders, trying to offer up what comfort his presence could. His gaze stayed on the screen before him as the people shown on it remained still, waiting for the decision like the rest of the world it seemed. The soft noise of Noin joining them went unnoticed by Relena until her brother moved to fold his other arm about his fiancée`. The simple love in that act alone brought a tired smile to her lips. It was good to see that after all of this. Her brother was happy, she was happy. There was little to be happy about these days.  
  
A loud rapping sound came from the viewscreen as a black clad man ascended the stairs shown in the center. Standing there, he rustled the papers in his hands. Another figure clad in grey stood at the urging of the armed guards surrounding him on all four sides. The prisoner's hands were chained before him and then latched to his waist. The same heavy restraints laid about his ankles, keeping them immobile as well as using the powerful magnets within to keep his feet secured to the floor. Even dressed and bound as he was, the figure's head rose to evenly meet the stony gaze from above.  
  
Relena pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing softly, "Must they keep him bound like that? He's a human, not an animal."  
  
"To them, he's not," Millardo whispered softly in reply, attention riveted to the screen again.  
  
"We have found you, Heero Yuy, guilty of the murder of fellow Preventers Trowa Barton and Chang Wufei as well as the disappearance and assumed murder of Preventers Duo Maxwell and Quatre Raberba Winner. You are to be remanded for now to the Sanq Institute for the Criminally Insane until such a time that you would be found competent enough to be put into the regular prison populace without being a danger to yourself and others. It was the Minister's own mercy that is keeping you from execution and instead a four consecutive life sentences, Yuy. Do you have anything you would like to say to the court?"  
  
Silence from Heero greeted this question, the pilot's Prussian blue eyes focused on the judge still. The ex-Preventer's face bore no disbelief, no anger, and no sorrow. It was a void as it had been the entire trial. There had been no tears from Heero Yuy, even as the torn condition of Trowa Barton's body, a man he had been said to be the lover of. Nothing came again as that of Chang Wufei, found impaled on one of his own katanas, was questioned upon. When asked what had happened to the now vanished Winner and Maxwell that same silence had held. Shaking his head slowly, the judge banged his gavel again and spoke solemnly as the guards began to move Yuy out of the courtroom and to the transport that would take him to his new home, "And may the gods have mercy on your soul… if you have one."  
  
A soft click turned off the viewscreen as Relena pressed her hands to her face, trying to stifle her sobs. Noin sighed and leaned against her soon to be husband's chest. Wiping a silent tear away, she tried for a weak smile and failed badly, "At least he was saved from the electric chair."  
  
Millardo held the two women in his arms, biting back the words he thought in his heart to be true. Killing Heero would have been kinder than caging him for the rest of his life. Resting is cheek against his sister's head, his eyes closed, wondering for the hundredth time what had possessed Heero to snap two weeks ago and end the night with killing all four of the other ex-Gundam pilots. 


	2. Chapter One Life is Cheap

As Heero sat in the gently rocking van, his mind drifted, fragmented pieces of conversations floating through his consciousness.  
  
*Quatre, I can see my enemies clearly now. If you become my enemy, I'll destroy you.*  
  
Had he really said that to the one he loved? It had been what felt like ages ago that he'd spoken those words. Closing his eyes, Heero's head laid back against the wall behind him, ignoring the five guards who were with him. All of them were smart enough to stay out of the pilot's reach with their weapons at the ready. Chains and locks weren't always a reassurance against one who had been raised to kill, especially if the person in question was the so-called 'Perfect Soldier'.  
  
*Quatre, I will destroy you.*  
  
After the madness of the ZERO system. Yes, he had said that, perhaps repeatedly. At the time, it had seemed the only thing that might break past the insanity that had been awakened in the blonde. Even as he had sat poised, he had mentally prayed to any deity that would hear him not to force his hand in this. With one life that of Quatre's, stacked up against all of those within the colony he wasn't sure if he could do it. The needs of the many didn't always outweigh the needs of the one, not when he needed that one.  
  
*You'll die, Heero. But I don't want to kill my friends. Please, get away, Heero!*  
  
Quatre kill. That was a thought he couldn't make solid in his mind at times. It was easy to forget sometimes that this was a person who piloted a Gundam, cut down mobile dolls and other heavy artillery like they were paper tigers, and had destroyed an entire colony. That angelic face tended to make one forget that at times. But it was for that same person that he sat here now, in chains and under guard to be imprisoned for the rest of his natural life. It was for Quatre.  
  
*Life is cheap… especially mine…*  
  
That was the plain and simple truth in Heero's eyes, reminded to him once more as he remained still with his eyes closed and a picture of Quatre and Trowa in his mind. They couldn't take that away from him with barren walls and a cell. No one could ever take those moments from him. Relena must have stepped in on his behalf that he had been allowed to keep his wedding band on. Even after a year, the winding strands of white, rose, and yellow gold still shone as they had when new. It was a sign of his promise to both of his lovers to love, honour, and now protect them both.   
  
He couldn't break that vow now, even though he had seen Quatre plunge the katana blade into the back of Chang Wufei to kill him.  
  
*Life is cheap… especially mine…* he repeated to himself in silence.  
  
  
  
In the darkness of Une's office within Preventer Headquarters, the cold blue light shed from a laptop washed the room in its luminescence. Lady Une herself sat before it, tapping away on the keys as she went over the case one last time.   
  
Chang Wufei: Dead from a single thrust of his own blade from behind. The force of impact was so great that it literally speared him to the desk before him. Given that the owner cherished the weapon, it can only be assumed that it was freely given to the murderer or that it was stolen beforehand. Heero Yuy's fingerprints covered the hilt of the blade, the marks dried in blood found to be that of Trowa Barton, Quatre Winner, Chang Wufei, and Duo Maxwell.  
  
Trowa Barton: Dead from loss of blood from numerous lacerations to his body. A gun had been found in his hand, ballistics showing that the bullet dug out of Heero Yuy was fired from this weapon. Theory is that he fired the weapon once in self-defense after the attacker had sliced him numerous times.  
  
Duo Maxwell: Missing, presumed dead. Roughly half a pint of this victim's blood was found splattered across Heero Yuy's bedroom floor as well as trace amounts on the tarp stowed in Yuy's car trunk. At present, his body has not been recovered, nor is there any information leading to his whereabouts.  
  
Quatre Winner: Missing, presumed dead. Large amounts of his blood were discovered on sheets taken from Heero Yuy's bed, along with semen matching that of Heero Yuy. Handcuffs found in a locked box at the back of Heero's Yuy's closet also contained trace amounts of his blood. At present, there are no leads to where his body has been disposed of or his whereabouts if he is still alive.  
  
Une pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to keep the headache at bay. Long hours of staring at this information all day and night since the disaster had happened were responsible for the nightly migraines. Something wasn't ringing right here. Heero Yuy was a trained Gundam pilot, a fact that worked both for and against him. He would have had more sense than to leave a scene this sloppy behind, yet he also would have possessed the cold heartedness to stab one former teammate in the back as well as cut the other until he bled to death. Heero had been found on the floor in a state of shock with the bullet fired from Barton's gun in him, but Une knew he could have taken more punishment than a single shot and kept going. If it was mental shock, then why? Finally realizing what he'd done? That didn't fit in with her reasoning on the former pilot of 01, not if he had committed these murders in the first place.   
  
Scanning back over the long columns of information, she paused at the newest bits added. Winner's skin had been recovered from beneath Chang's nails. A frown settled on the Lady's face as she leaned back in her chair. Another loose end that wasn't tying up right. Under Barton's or Yuy's could have been understood, but beneath Chang's? Flipping back through the information, she paused at Barton's autopsy report as well before blinking in faint surprise. There had been no gunpowder burns on Barton's hand. When a person fired a gun, a soft cloud of soot particles from unburned carbon particles came from the weapon. It was always found on the hand of the person who had fired the weapon as well as that of the victim if it was at a close range. Flipping back to the hospital's report on Heero Yuy, that dusky smudge had been present on him as well as the particles of gunpowder that had literally been blasted into his skin along with the slug from the closeness of the shooter.  
  
"Which means Trowa Barton was not the shooter," she murmured to herself.  
  
Flipping to the media files, she watched them through again. Little had been picked up by the security cameras at Winner Estate the night of the murders. The interior cameras were all focused on expensive works of art or the vaults. The only one that had captured anything of use had been the one in the garage that showed Heero carrying what was assumed to be Duo Maxwell's body to his car. Only the long braid swinging free from within the wrapped up tarp gave them a hint of what was within. Watching the way he carelessly dumped the body into the trunk brought a line of tightness to Une's lips. Now there was the cold and uncaring pilot of 01 that she knew. Then she saw it. Snapping a hand down on the mouse, she backed the video up, replaying it frame by frame. Enlarging and sharpening the picture showed her the most out of place thing she had seen in the entire investigation.   
  
Heero Yuy was smiling before he shut the trunk.  
  
  
  
  
It was well after midnight when servants woke Relena, Millardo, and Noin, telling all three that their presence was requested immediately at the main shuttle bay for the Preventers immediately. By the time one am came about, the trio had arrived to find Lady Une stalking back and forth outside of a shuttle that was readying to depart. With her hair down, she was greatly changed from the woman they encountered long ago, the great Fiery Une. Agitation showed in her expression but not the coldness of before.   
  
Millardo Peacecraft stifled a yawn as he rubbed his eyes once more, trying to look fully awake at least. Midnight calls hadn't been seen for him since the time of the war. Peace had the habit of making him lazy, he supposed. "Lady Une, I think I speak for all of us when I ask what is going on?"  
  
Brought out of her thoughts, Une straightened her back into the imperious woman that had all known before. When given a mission, she had been as dangerous as any of the Gundam pilots. "We've put an innocent man in prison, and we need to go get the one person who can prove that he's innocent as well as help us capture the real murderers. We're going to Luxembourgh Estate. The shuttle is ready to go when you are."  
  
Three blank stares met this announcement from Noin, Relena, and Millardo. Luxembourgh Estate had been Treize Khushrenda's home, one long abandoned since his death at the end of the war. As far as any of them knew, it was still empty and tended only by a caretaker or two that kept the house free of intruders and the grounds neatened. Relena stepped beside her brother as she watched the other woman, trying to register all the information at once. The innocent man could only be Heero. All of them knew how Une had been slaving away on this case, determined for some reason to prove that it hadn't been Heero's doing, but what could be gained by going to Treize's old home and who were the real murderers? Was it a brand of temporary madness? She had been deeply in love with Khushrenda if what half of Noin had told her was true. "Lady Une, there's no one at Luxembourgh Estate…"  
  
Une sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Just come with me. I need all three of you for this. Heero Yuy did not murder his teammates if I'm right, although you might wish it were he later. Please. Just trust me."  
  
Lucrezia Noin moved forward first, ruffling her hair and yawning as she boarded the shuttle. "If there's a chance, I'm willing to take it. Lead on, Lady."  
  
The German woman's relief was clear as at least one of them was willing to go. She watched Millardo and Relena exchange silent glances before the elder shrugged and both of them went aboard. Twisting her hands together, Une took a deep breath. Part of her hoped that she was wrong and that Heero Yuy had done this. It was a part of herself that she was deeply ashamed of, knowing it was cowardice, but it was there just the same. Pulling the shuttle door closed after her, Lady Une settled down for the ride.  
  
  
  
A few hours later, the shuttle touched down on the landing pad on Luxembourgh Estate, the four passengers disembarking and gazing up at what had been the home of Treize Khushrenda. Even now, it was still well cared for and magnificent in its own right. It brought to mind dignity, tradition, and had the strange charm of the palaces in old romance novels. The figure that came striding towards them completed the Gothic air of the mansion as well as put three of them into a stunned shock.  
  
Treize Khushrenda appeared to have changed little since last they had all seen him and heard him, his last act a suicide. Deceptively lazy eyes of sapphire settled on Millardo's platinum once as Treize half smirked, half smiled and turned to Relena to kiss her hand. She wasn't doing any better than her brother, watching with a lost wonderment as the dead man touched his lips to the back of her hand. Squeezing Noin's hand in his own, Millardo faltered in his attempt to smile, "This isn't the other side, you know."  
  
Bass laughter with a seductive edge rolled from Treize as he nodded and shrugged, taking Une's hand for the same kiss, giving the woman a raised brow of inquiry before turning back to the blonde man. "It is the other side of war though. Peace is the other side of the same coin."  
  
Noin broke her shock long enough to shake her head in denial, "You're dead."  
  
"So I've been told."  
  
"How? We saw you. We recovered your body…"  
  
"Lieutenant Noin, for as long as you have known me, have you ever known me not to have a backup plan? Cyborg technology is amazing; especially when you have enough people on the inside to make sure that an autopsy is not done to discover the truth. It was the war to end all wars after all. I never said I would walk out on the winning side," Treize replied softly before stepped back and folding his arms over his chest.  
  
Relena's mind whirled and churned, feeling as if she had been shoved into a hurricane. Treize was alive? How long had Une known this and kept it a secret? "What… Kami-sama… what the hell is going on?"  
  
Treize glanced to Une at his side, that secretive smile tugging at his lips once more, "You can dress her up, make her the overseer of peace for the world, and she's still the girl in roses that took a potshot at you under it all, isn't she, my Lady?"  
  
Struggling to keep her dignity, Relena glared at Treize, the man merely smiling at her still in that infuriating manner. He had tricked them all, and now he stood here laughing about it. She wanted nothing more than to try to hit him, hurt him as he had them. With her nails cutting half moons into her palms, Relena regained her control, reminded that she was a pacifist, even against one she had blamed for a good deal of what had happened to the colonies and planet. "Why are we here, Une?"  
  
Treize glanced at the woman on his arm as well, curiosity filling him on the unexpected visit. She did occasionally come to see him when time permitted, and she could slip away without being noticed, but bringing others was something she had never done. "I admit that I'd like to know that as well, my Lady."  
  
Une struggled within for a few moments, trying to think of the best way to ask what had to be. "Treize, did you reactivate Project Falling Meteor?"  
  
The ginger haired man arched a brow at her question, releasing her hand from his own. Surprise filtered through his mask of gentility before it slid back into place. "No, I have not. I take it this is related to what I've been hearing on the news reports?"  
  
"I need you to look at a clip of the security cameras from Winner Estate if you will. All of you need to see it really," Une murmured, holding out the CD to Khushrenda.  
  
Strong fingers took the small case from her, studying the disc within. Project Falling Meteor. There was one of his plots he'd hoped never to hear of again. As if at a distance, he could hear Zechs… now Millardo… as well as Lucrezia and Relena asking questions of Une that she was patiently answering. Project Falling Meteor. It had been perhaps his greatest plan and his worst failure all at the same time. When he'd heard about Heero's murder spree, he'd never connected the two. Now, here it was, back to haunt him like a forgotten spectre. How easily could his hands merely shattered the frail disc within them, letting him turn his back and deny everything? Responsibility wouldn't let him do that even as he longed to turn away and say he couldn't help them. Lifting his head, Treize straightened his spine and took matters as he always had, upfront and head on. "We need to go to Corsica. I'll watch this on the way. If you're right, Lady Une, then we can't delay anymore."  
  
Millardo caught onto Treize's arm as the former leader turned towards the shuttle. Platinum blue eyes narrowed to slits as he sought to meet the other's, "There's nothing at Corsica. It was destroyed."  
  
Treize's faint smile carried both tones of sadness as well as a strange melancholy as he nodded. "Yes, it was, but just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there. Some of the greatest secrets of the war still lie buried beneath the debris of bases or floating in space, waiting to be found. It seems someone has found one of ours. I'll explain on the way. There's a lot you need to hear of projects only a few knew about as well as the ZERO system. We don't have time to waste standing here, Millardo, even if I am pleased to see you without your mask. Time is short, and I get the feeling it's growing shorter." 


	3. Chapter Two The Falling Star They Never...

Title: Reflections in a Broken Mirror (Sequel to Falling Shards)  
Part: 3/?  
Pairings: 1x3x4, 2x5  
Disclaimer : Last time I slapped a yaoi warning on a story, no one got laid in it. Just for safety's sake though, call it a yaoi one. I might never get them finally in the bed, but there's usually lots of groping, kissing, and so on. This story is dedicated to: jefcat (let me miss a deadline and I will be reminded), Caer (first person to ever want to post my GW drivel), bearilou, Alec (keeper of my Duo when he escapes), Ana, Gal, Sky, Rain (ONNA!) and more recently: swythangel, Kasra (she of the Golden Click), Iczer, Dim Genesis, and Caspian (who I must get readdicted to GW). These are the people that keep me writing.   
  
I don't own the GW boys, just wish I did. Don't sue me unless you plan on housing two Dachshunds and an evil cat. I'm a writer. I have no money. This takes place one year after Falling Shards. As always, I rarely respond to feedback since I don't know what to say outside of storytelling, but I do love and crave it.   
  
Chapter Two – The Falling Star They Never Saw  
  
The ride had been tense so far as Treize and Une sat before one of the screens, watching a single piece over and over. Relena was beginning to feel her impatience gnaw at her with sharp teeth while the two conversed in whispers and kept viewing Heero dumping Duo's body in the back of his car. Too many sleepless nights were making her irritable, something she knew as she reined in her temper and kept her questions silent. Relief spread through her as Treize finally leaned back in his chair and shook his head slowly.  
  
A soft creak accompanied the former leader of OZ's movement as his chair turned to face the rest of the shuttle's passengers. His face was an array of emotions. Hints of anger danced through his dark blue eyes while something else broiled beneath that. Only Millardo picked up on what it was: fear. Treize was afraid of something, and whatever it was that scared him was enough to make Millardo, once known as the Lightening Count, want to avoid it.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, Treize nodded slowly. "It's not Heero. I'm sure of it. Even the way he moves is wrong. Heero Yuy tends to have very precise, long trained motions when he walks. This one is like watching a cat stalking prey and enjoying it. Heero isn't sadistic. He's a killer, but not sadistic. You were right, Une."  
  
Noin turned away from the window she had been staring at, watching the landscape whip along below them as they approached the old Corsica base. "What is Project Falling Meteor, and how are you so sure that's not Heero Yuy. It's been awhile since you last saw him. Perhaps he's changed? I'd like it, as much as anyone if he were innocent, but over the past two weeks, we haven't found anything to clear his name. Quatre and Duo are still missing as well."  
  
Treize sighed and caught Une's eyes briefly. There was sympathy there for him as well as the desire to go on. She had put a lot on the line to bring these people to him as well as perhaps save them from what may have been unleashed. It was too late to keep any secrets. It was time to tell the story. "You're all probably aware that at one time, we had captured Heero Yuy. In experiments run by Trent, we discovered the effects of the ZERO system first hand. The speed and accuracy at which Yuy could operate under the system's help was amazing."  
  
Millardo repressed a shudder at the mention of the ZERO system. In his mind, the damned thing was one of the worst evils that had ever been made by man. He still remembered how it had wracked him. "Hai, and it also lead him on a rampage on that ship as well as affect Winner so badly that he destroyed an entire colony."  
  
Treize nodded in agreement, resting his chin on one hand as his eyes gained a thoughtful look. "That's very true. It takes out all distracts though, theoretically creating a perfect pilot. Theoretically. The flaw in it is that it does occasionally warp the mind to where the subject sees everything and everyone as an enemy that needs to be destroyed. Our hope was that it could be harnessed in a way that it wasn't so powerful and placed in a pilot so that instead of it being a shock on the human psyche, it would be something they were accustomed to and to a degree, dependant on."  
  
Shock met this admission from Relena as her clenched hands began to shake. She had read reports on the ZERO system, heard all that it had done to Duo, Heero, and Quatre as well as her brother. In her eyes, it was as Millardo saw, one of the greatest evils constructed by man. It was a machine that had been created for the express purpose of killing others on the largest scale possible. "You put this… in Heero?"  
  
Treize shook his head quickly, "No, no… we couldn't put it in a person who was fully grown. The human mind begins growing from the moment of birth or conception. A teenager was already used to how their brain operated, and to disrupt that with a constant ZERO system led to… very bad results."  
  
"So you put it in a baby?" Noin whispered in disbelief. OZ had been terrible, yes, but she hadn't guessed to this degree.  
  
"In a manner of speaking, yes, we did," Treize replied with a sigh. "Five babies to be exact. Their names were simple but fitting: Heeron, Douron, Troron, Quatron, and Feiron. At one time or another, we had captured one of the pilots. We had 01 and 04 for a while, 02 and 05 as well, and 03 was already in our databases as a soldier. From tests and so on, we had everything we needed to construct five clones because, after all, they were already tested and tried soldiers. With a clone, we could implant the internal ZERO system and go from there."  
  
"Kami-sama, Khushrenda. What were you thinking?"  
  
"It was a time of war, Lucrezia. You have to understand that first. People were dying, and five children were already leading and winning. I wanted it to stop, so I planned out, executed, and in the end, terminated Project Falling Meteor. There were… flaws in all of them."  
  
Millardo leaned forward as he listened, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped before him. This had to be a nightmare. Even Treize Khushrenda wouldn't have made five clones and implanted them each with a ZERO system ruling their minds. It was lunacy. "What sort of flaws?" he asked in a choked voice that he hardly recognized as his own.  
  
"Heeron was violently sadistic, something we hadn't expected. He enjoyed what he did and followed no one's orders. The real Heero Yuy was always one for the mission and what his superiors told him. To see his clone shoot a doctor for asking him to bare his arm for a blood test because he didn't feel like it at the time was a surprise. Duoron was frightening in his own right as well. He never wore black, only white. Claimed it made the bloodstains stand out so much better than a dark material did. That clone could assimilate any information put before him and recite it back hours or even days later. I never found out if it was true or not, but the real Maxwell must have had a photographic memory. Troron was somewhat normal, enough that we would have used him if we could have. He was manageable but prone to taking a dislike to something or someone and killing it because he could. If someone touched him, he would hurt them until he was satisfied that they would not attempt it again. Quatron was the masterpiece so to speak. Intelligent, resourceful, quick, and a born leader. Unfortunately, he was also as sadistic as Heeron, if not more, as well as sly and controlling. Feiron was more like Troron. Useful, yes, but had small problems such as his dislike of women. Seeing one was enough to set him off to a killing. They were all small things I see in the real versions of themselves warped to extremes either by the cloning system we had or the ZERO chip implanted in them."  
  
Relena twisted a handkerchief through her fingers, hands already aching from controlling herself earlier. This got worse and worse, like biting into a shiny apple and while chewing on that bite seeing half a worm wriggling within it. "What happened to them?"  
  
Treize's eyes moved the window as they began to descend, the shuttle finding a suitable place to land outside the leveled place where the Corsica base had once stood. *Here we go again… same old song again…* his mind chanted within. An old military marching cadence. Fitting for the circumstances in an ironic way. "I had them placed in suspended animation, hoping that we would find a way to remove the chips after the war or we would have the means to correct their behaviour patterns when things calmed down. I created them. I couldn't just destroy them. They were psychotic, but they were alive. They thought, understood, reasoned, had personalities all their own…"  
  
Noin fastened her seatbelt with a sharp click. "Sounds like Romper Room from Hell."  
  
Treize's lips formed a weary smile as he latched his own and waited for the bump of the craft settling. "Someone has let them out. The generator we have powering their tubes should have still been good for another thirty years. After that, when it failed, they would have died in their sleep. They're not children. Don't make that mistake. Physically, they're perfect replicas of the originals which is why Heero's prints were all over the murder weapon, and he was seen there. The smirk gave him away. That's Heeron's look all over."  
  
Riding the bumpy landing out, Millardo was doing his best to accept and move on. He wanted to shriek at Treize, asking him what frantic madness had led to this all. The scary thing was that earlier Treize had alluded to their being all sorts of things left over from the war just lying about still. What else had OZ developed and never gotten to use? "Then it's him we're looking for?"  
  
A bitter chuckle came from Treize as the craft gave one last thump and went still as the engines powered down. "Oh no, not at all. Quatron is the one you have to watch. I will wager anything that he planned and set into motion the entire thing with Heero. How do you say it… he's the brains behind the organization. He leads Heeron about by the nose, although Heeron never suspects it. Same with Douron. Were autopsies done on either Chang or Barton's bodies?"  
  
Une shook her head as she rose from her seat, opening the hatch with a glance back to the others. "Not much of one beyond what ballistics requested about the entry wounds and all. Nothing indepth."  
  
"Then I will also wager that you have a dead Feiron and Troron instead of the real Chang and Barton. Quatron never did like them, and Heeron is the gun that he can pull the trigger on."  
  
  
  
Hours later, the five stood in the dust and debris covered remains of what had once been a vast underground laboratory. Before them were five tubes, each one large enough to hold an adult male of Millardo's size within and suspended in fluid. The culprit had turned out to be poor construction in the end. The stress from the ruined base above had finally caused a piece of the ceiling to give way. When it had, a beam had swung down and shattered the first cell, one that Treize confirmed being Heeron's. All they could guess was it had been easy work from there on for him to shattered the rest of the tubes and free his entire team. Crawling up the inoperable elevator shaft would have taken time, but five people made in the images of the Gundam pilots would have been more than up to the task.  
  
Kicking aside a shard of broken glass, Treize frowned, thinking to himself. "We need Heero. Can you get him released, Relena?"  
  
Relena shook her head in the negative, "It'll take another trial, Treize. If these clones are as dangerous as you say, will they go for him?"  
  
"I don't know. Heeron will want to. He hates Heero. Mentioning Wing Zero or Heero to him can spark off a fit of rage that was seen before when Heero himself was under the ZERO system's influence. Quatron might let him or not depending on how it fits into his plans. I want the bodies of Chang and Barton exhumed and their skulls checked. The chip would rest right between the temporal lobe and the membranes of his brain. X-ray them and find out for sure. They would have had to fight against Troron and Feiron to avoid letting me know they were out and about."  
  
Une spoke up from where she was trying to salvage any of the computer files, her voice weary and ragged, "You're lucky those three didn't come for a visit. You would have no warning."  
  
The former OZ leader's shoulder rolled in a shrug as he poked about what had been Duoron's tube. "Quatron wouldn't have. He knows better than to chase a wounded animal into its own den. We need to break Yuy out then. Noin and Ze… Millardo, do you two feel up to the task?"  
  
The couple exchanged a look and a grin between them as Noin stretched and preened a bit, "I'd been wanting something to test my skills, see if I was still up to piloting. No time like the present."  
  
Millardo nodded as well, overlooking the stumble on his name. Old habits were hard to break. "We can get him. We'll probably be outlaws for a bit afterwards, but we can get him."  
  
Treize nodded, standing up and dusting his hands off. "Good. We need to know where all the old safehouses were that the pilots used during the war between missions, and he's the only one who would have that knowledge."  
  
Relena sighed and pushed aside the paperwork, most of the writing on the sheets faded by time and the damp conditions of the underground lab. "Why?"  
  
Treize's smirk met her once more as he started for the rope dangling down the elevator shaft. "If you were a Gundam pilot and thought you were still in wartimes, not to mention having just put someone away for murder and perhaps killed or kidnapped his friends, wouldn't you want a familiar place to hide?"  
  
  
  
Day had given way to night as Heero Yuy sat on the floor of his cell. The walls, ceiling, and floor were covered with a thick padded material, not too bad to sit on after being used to the accommodations that OZ had provided last time he was in this position. A straitjacket held his arms tightly about him, the pilot still considering if it was worth dislocating his shoulder to wriggle out of it. He hated needles, and they only way they were going to inject him with anything was if they liked going through the battle they had tonight to get the tranquilizer in him.   
  
There were no windows beyond the tiny one on the door of his cell that could be slid aside from the outside. He didn't need a clock to tell him what time it was. After so long in space, his body had attuned itself and told him, not that it mattered anyways. There was nothing to do but sit or lie here replaying his mind memories of his time with Quatre and Trowa. Right now, he wasn't here in this dark cell… not really. He was on a beach where the sun shone brightly down on him watching Quatre and the dogs. The scent of the sea breeze was strong across his senses and laughter of his soon to be mate rang in his ears.   
  
The sound of his door opening went ignored from a combination of wanting to stay in his memory and the drugs they had given him. It wasn't until someone began stroking the hair from his face that he came back to what could loosely be termed consciousness. Clouded eyes blinked stupidly at first; sure that he was seeing things. His own visage was staring back at him. A disordered mass of dark brown hair framed the stranger's face, Prussian blue eyes locked on his own. The soft snick of a switchblade opening came from beside his head as the cold metal touched on his cheek, stroking the skin without cutting it yet. The giggle that came from the apparition before him was the first and only sign Heero needed of the thing's insanity. Even the voice that followed the laughter was wrong, his own but twisted somehow to be what he was not.  
  
"Ohoya Heero. You have no idea how long I've waited to meet you, and we've got alllll night to get acquainted. What fun." 


	4. Chapter Three Smoke and Mirrors

Title: Reflections in a Broken Mirror (Sequel to Falling Shards)  
Part: 4/?  
Pairings: 1x3x4, 2x5  
Disclaimer/Warning : Last time I slapped a yaoi warning on a story, no one got laid in it. Just for safety's sake though, call it a yaoi one. I might never get them finally in the bed, but there's usually lots of groping, kissing, and so on. I don't own the GW boys, just wish I did. Don't sue me unless you plan on housing two Dachshunds and an evil cat. I'm a writer. I have no money. This takes place one year after Falling Shards. As always, I rarely respond to feedback since I don't know what to say outside of storytelling, but I do love and crave it.  
  
Chapter Three – Smoke and Mirrors  
  
The dark mirror of himself smiled once more as Heero's eyes cleared of some of the drugged fog lying within the Prussian depths. What fun was it to torture something that wasn't aware of being hurt? Dim flickers of light chased along the sharp edge of the switchblade as Heeron stroked the other's cheek with it. How he longed to simply plunge it though that fragile skin, but that would end the whole game too quickly and painlessly. No, he wasn't going to do that. He was going to draw this out for as long as he possibly could… or at least until the man he hated burst his own throat by screaming in agony. Then, and only then, would he end it.  
  
Heero blinked again, trying to raise a hand to swipe at his eyes before remembering that a straitjacket still held his limbs bound. Biting the tip of his tongue hard enough to fill his mouth with the coppery taste of his own blood, he knew this wasn't a dream now or some drug induced fantasy. Whoever or whatever this mirror of him was, it was real. Silently stoic, his steady gaze lost the last filmy traces of sluggishness, a fully awake and aware sharpness now present. The small hairs across the back of Heero's neck and arms stood up, the same sensation he used to get when knowing that he was going to have to self-destruct.  
  
The clone tilted his head as he watched these changes come about. Now that was something one didn't see everyday. Few people could throw off the effects of a powerful tranquilizer that easily. Had to be a hellacious force of will in the man he was made from. Then again, he had that same iron will, so Heeron couldn't say that he was exactly surprised. Making himself comfortable, Heeron lifted his switchblade away from Heero's skin, twirling it lazily through his fingers. "I bet you're wondering just what is going on here, ne? Let me tell you a bit then. I always did love good stories myself. Wonder if I get that from you… Anyways, to make a long story short, Treize-baka, the Man Who Wanted to Be God, made me from scraps of you. Evidentially, you just bled all over the place, and some OZ egghead got the bright idea to make a clone of you so that they could learn all sorts of new and interesting things about how your mind worked. I suppose they just wanted a more efficient or at least successful way to kill you. None of that really matters now, of course. You see, I get to kill you now. Oh, before you ask, I did have a full team at one time. The Wufei and Trowa clones were complete drags. Utterly boring and about as inspirational as a wet lunchbag. About as smart too. So I had to kill them, or rather I killed Tro, and you saw that cute little Quatre clone kill poor Fei's. Then we killed the noisy American clone too. Does the real Maxwell ever shut up? We never could get ours to. Just talk, talk, and talk until I finally shot in the throat to get some peace and quiet to screw Quat in. He's dead too. Two Quatres walking around would have raised too many questions, and … well, I'd already had the clone Quatre in the sack. After I finish with you, I'll go find out how the other one is. He's still in that box, so just imagine how happy he'll be to see his hero… Heero."  
  
Heeron's lips spread in a sadistic smile as he flicked his tongue across them lecherously, nearly breaking into laughter as Heero tried to lash a foot out at him. The clone shoved the Gundam pilot onto his back, settling on Heero's chest and staring down at him malevolently. "It's really too bad that I can't sneak you out of here somehow and let you watch. You know, if he's any good, maybe I'll keep him around for awhile. I always did want a pet."  
  
Dark fire burned in Heero's eyes as he struggled for breath under the combination of the jacket's restraints and the weight of the clone on his chest. If he could just get in a good breath, he could buck this psychopath off of him and begin letting loose some frustrations. This… thing was not getting out of the cell to go hurt Quatre. It began to click in Heero's mind and make sense, half blurred events coming through sharper. He had seen Quatre stab Wufei, but if what this clone was saying could be taken as truth, then it was just a clone killing another clone. After Trowa… or was it the Trowa clone… had shot him when he'd walked through the door, Heero had been hit with some sort of sleeping gas. Even seeing Quatre killing Wufei had been hazy and half glimpsed. He had other, conflicting memories of hearing/half-seeing a bloody Quatre weeping while being carried by who he thought was Duo outside and down towards the Winner family cemetery. A box. "You… buried him… alive?" Heero spoke in struggling gasps for air.  
  
"You damn skippy. Him and Maxwell. We pulled up the floor of one of those mausoleums and dug the whole thing out. With the five of us and how fast we can work, it took us about six hours to make it nine foot by nine foot. Put a couple of supports in and re-laid the floor right back over it."  
  
"It's been two weeks."  
  
A sharp slap rocked Heero's head as the clone scowled down at him. "You think I'm an idiot or something, Yuy? We left them food and water down there as well as one of the tiles missing for air. Those mausoleums are damn well insulated. Blocks a lot of sound, including the screaming of two five and some feet tall boys trapped in a nine-foot deep hole. Besides, you know how far from the house that place is. It's a good half-mile. No one would hear them even if they could be heard. They might be now running short on food, but I'll go change that tonight. Just get the mental image fixed in your little mind of how grateful little golden haired Quatre will be when I pull him out of that pit. I'm rather looking forward to the bathing him part, especially with my tongue. What do you think?"  
  
"I think that's a lousy idea."  
  
Two sets of Prussian blue eyes blinked in faint shock as they turned towards the speaker. A fist lashed out and caught Heeron on the point of his jaw, the solid impact making satisfyingly loud cracking sound. Never in his life had Heero been so happy to see light flashing off of the crucifix that the hitter wore. It was none other than Duo Maxwell to save the day.  
  
Heeron's eyes clouded over and then rolled back as he dropped off of Heero, his switchblade sliding across the floor to be trapped under another's foot. Delicate fingers wrapped about the knife as Quatre stepped into the light, looking a more worse for wear than Duo. Then again, he always had shown his injuries more on the outside than the rest of the pilots. Holding the blade in his hands, the Arab turned it through his fingers nervously, his eyes finally meeting Heero's. Unshed tears laid in their soft blue depths, the dark shadows beneath them showing his lack of sleep and good food. Even the trigold wedding band on his left had seemed too big, sliding along his finger where it had once sat snugly. Small white teeth worried at his lower lip before he spoke, "Do you promise me…. That it wasn't you that killed Trowa, Hee-chan?"  
  
Duo sighed, pulled Heero into a sitting position and starting to unbuckle the back of the jacket rapidly. "Quatre, you just heard that whatever the hell it is say it wasn't him! We don't have time for this, damn it! We're lucky we got in here. We have to get Heero out of here now, before the guards realize what's going on. There's no time for True Confessions."  
  
Quatre's gaze dropped back to the floor as he nodded, dropping to one knee with a distasteful and fear stricken look at Heeron. Shuddering lightly, he helped tug the jacket off of Heero's numbed arms, only to find himself caught up by his lover and husband. Heero wrapped one arm about the Arab and the other about the American, coming about as close as he did to crying. "I swear, to both of you, that it wasn't me. I swear."  
  
For a moment, both boys in Heero's arms went tense, slowly relaxing and returning the embrace until Duo poked them. "I hate to interrupt this Kodak moment, but we're currently in a maximum security psycho ward with a soon to be conscious madman at our side along with a whole lotta guards with big guns running around. Can we go?"  
  
Helping Heero rise, Quatre suddenly smiled, eyeing Heeron and then Heero. "I have an idea."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the three were out of the prison and running. Within Heero's cell, now in the straitjacket, sat Heeron him. Opening his eyes, the clone grinned viciously. Damn, Duoron had a good right cross, and Quatron deserved an award for those tears. Kid could turn on the waterworks at the drop of a hat, right down to the trembling lip and big puppy eyes. Heero had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. Chuckling to himself, Heeron stretched out on the floor and waited. There was no fear in him that the rest of Quatron's plan wouldn't go as he'd been told. Thinking ahead of others was what Quatron did best.  
  
**  
Twenty-four hours had passed, and no one was the wiser about the switching out of the clone for the original Heero Yuy. A perfect copy right down to his fingerprints, Heeron acted exactly like Heero had even when he didn't plan on it. When it came time for evening medications, Heeron put up quite a fight while bound in the straitjacket. The end result was ultimately the same as four bruised orderlies slunk out of his cell, leaving the drugged clone to stare blankly at the wall. Silence fell across the grounds of the Sanq Institute for the Criminally Insane as the moon rose, the inmates deep in their own chemically induced sleep.  
  
Eyelids fluttered at the soft hissing sound, Heeron's brain slowly overcoming the gap between drugged dream and reality. While he did have Heero's exact DNA and body makeup, he lacked the real one's experience with drugs and being shot up with them, resulting in a drastically lower tolerance for them. With numbed fascination, he watched a small flame of blue poke through the far wall and work its way into a rough circle. Soft voices came from the other side as the wall fell back towards the cutters, caught and moved aside. Struggling to sit up, Heeron wavered drunkenly, his entire expression one of near drooling stupidity thanks to all the tranquilizers.   
  
Noin's heart broke a little at the first sight of Heero. Instead of the quietly intelligent and militaristic Gundam pilot she had known, what she saw instead was a nineteen year old that had the look of the cataclysmically stoned. While no one would have ever called Heero's hair neat, it had a dirty flatness to it now, hanging in his face and around it limply. The straitjacket wrapped tightly around his body was grubby looking, giving the boy the look of someone that others locked away and forgot about. Stepping off of the silently hovering vehicle Millardo held steady for her, she strode into the cell, dropping to one knee alongside him. "Heero, can you hear me?" she asked without much hope, sweeping some of the filthy locks of hair back from the unfocused blue eyes.  
  
A slow nod answered her as Heeron tried to get on his feet, knees unhinging and trying to spill him back to the floor. Noin's arms steadied him, letting his weight settle against her. "You… you gotta go, Noin," he enunciated slowly, each word a trial to force past his uncooperative lips and tongue.  
  
"We're not leaving without you," Noin replied, shaking her head at his state. Heero had lost weight. Not a lot of it, but enough to worry her. Scooping him into her arms, she paused to get her balance completely, assured more than her visual guess at the weight loss. At least a good twenty pounds had been melted off of what she had thought was an already skinny body. Stalking for the hole in the wall, the small mic on her lapel crackled softly.  
  
"Noin, you have guards headed your way in the corridor as well as more outside massing. Are you out yet?" asked her fiancée's voice from it.  
  
"Roger that," she murmured, stepped back out on the wing of the small racing ship that she and Millardo had stolen earlier. "We're out. Tell Treize we're heading back?"  
  
The three of them barely fit into the cramped space meant for only one and a few pieces of gear, but they had gotten Heero free. Glancing at her soon to be husband, the Italian woman gave him a weak smile as the engines roared to full life beneath them. The ship took off like a shot into the darkness as the first wails of an escape began to peal from the asylum. Neither of them noticed the tiny smirk that graced Heeron's lips before the clone fell into a sleep.  
  
Neither of them knew that this was all still going according to Quatron's scheme.  
  
***  
Treize Khushrenda lurked silently in the open door to what had been Heero, Quatre, and Trowa's bedroom in the still closed up Winner Estate. Getting the keys to undo the Preventer locks set on all the doors and windows had been easy for Noin, a request that Treize had made of her before she and Ze… Millardo… he had to make himself remember that the silver haired man was Millardo Peacecraft once more… had set off for their task. Why he had even wanted to come here was beyond him. All he knew was that some instinct was telling him to go to where the clones first made their appearance, and Treize was not a man to deny feelings that had kept him alive this long regardless of how odd or ill-timed they might be.  
  
A small penlight guided his way as he swept it over the bedroom. What had once been a grand canopy bed that could have easily held the three pilots was now in shambles. Glancing down at the report he held in one hand, Treize read back over the information.   
  
Supposedly, this bedroom was where they found most of the blood from Maxwell and Winner had been discovered. Maxwell's had been across the floor, while Winner's had been soaking into the sheets of the bed. Crouching down, Treize's elbows rested on his knees, chin held in his hands, trying to mentally envision what might have happened. The report stated that there had been handcuffs with Winner's blood as well, found in the back of Yuy's closet. Shaking his head, Treize sighed to himself. Funny how it listed most of these things as Yuy's when Yuy, Barton, and Winner probably shared them… such as the closet. Staring at the open door of that particular closet, he could see shirts of dark blue, green, and a pink one he seriously doubted Yuy would have been caught dead in.   
  
The handcuffs were what was coming back to haunt Treize. The blood from Maxwell could have come from Heeron and Duoron having one of their little spats on who was the leader of the outfit, or it could have come from someone trying to overpower the real Duo Maxwell. Given that it was in a bedroom where Duo had no reason to be, Treize was willing to bet all on it being Heeron and Duoron. It was the Yuy clone's style to want to get one or both of his lovers up into Heero's bed to desecrate it. Heeron wouldn't waste time or energy dragging the real Duo up there for that purpose.  
  
Khushrenda wished he could think the same for Quatre Winner, but those damnable handcuffs. Very early in Quatron's development, they of OZ had discovered that the clone had an intense dislike of being restrained in any manner. Perhaps Winner had some small upset about being bound down. If he had, it came out tenfold in the copy of himself. Those cuffs had to be on the real Quatre Winner at one point in the night. Resting his forehead against the heels of his hands, Treize hoped it wasn't tied into all the blood on the bed. Staring down at the floor, he tried to mentally sort this all out, find ends that connected. Running his penlight over the thick carpet, a flash caught his eye. Turning the beam over that same patch slowly, he pulled a shard of highly polished black stone out of the fibers, something easily missed in the plushy weave. Humming mindlessly to himself, Treize turned it over in his palm, studying it closely. For now, it was all the clue he had. Crumbling white grout still clung to one corner of the stone, something that brought a soft noise of wonder from him. It was a piece of flooring tile, but there were no black or even dark grey tile floors in the entire Estate. Most were wood, white marble, or carpeted.  
  
Gripping the shard, Treize flipped back through the Preventer report. Nothing had been moved according to this. Quatre's sisters were more than happy to leave the house closed up and abandoned until the Preventers had either found her brother or declared him dead. If it was the latter, they wanted the house stripped down and sold. None of them could bring themselves to live where he may have been murdered. A frown creased Treize's lips as he reread the part about having the Winner bodies still on the grounds exhumed. Flipping to the final page, there were the plans for the entire Estate. Sure enough, the Winner family crypt laid a good half-mile from the house itself, a place that had been looked at in the early hours and never again.  
  
"If I were Quatron, where would I hide bodies or living people?" Treize asked himself outloud, his own voice echoing back to him in the silent halls. "Among the dead. Who looks for the living among the dead? It's like hiding a book in a library."  
  
And it was a classic plot for the Quatron he knew.  
  
Lights shone through the dusty window from Noin and Millardo's shuttle as it made its descent onto the front lawn. Rising to his feet, Treize raced for the front door. That simple shard meant to him that either the clones were hiding out in the Winner crypt, or that they might have dumped one or more bodies or then living people there. It had been two weeks though…   
  
It had only taken a few minutes to explain to Noin and Millardo, both of them accompanying him. Edging open the crypt door, all three of them were armed with guns and ready to fire if necessary. As their lights spilled across the floor, Treize's gaze snapped to the floor. Ebony tile with white grouting stretched out beneath them, each large square expertly shined.  
  
"Bingo."  
  
"Let's start pulling these open," Noin muttered, already starting to shove the heavy stone lid of the nearest sarcophagus.   
  
Treize hung back as the other two worked, something about the room not striking him right. It was like looking at one of those pictures where some little cartoon character was hiding in the rest of the drawing. One could plainly see them, yet not somehow. This crypt had the same off feel. Shifting his gaze to the walls, the former OZ leader's brow furrowed. The vaults for each of the sarcophagi were up there, a small plaque with the deceased's name, birthdate, and date of death on them sitting over a small door. Those little doors opened up to where these caskets should have been… not here on the floor. One last strained shout came from the Italian woman as the lid went tumbling off. As the massive stone slab struck the tile floor, an ominous crack came from below.  
  
Treize tapped a foot, his frown deepening. From beneath the floor came a hollow sound. "I somehow doubt the Winner family paid this much to construct a mausoleum fine enough to house their ancestors and yet have shoddy workmanship on the floor."  
  
Millardo nodded, crouching down to brush aside the tiling that had shattered when the lid came crashing down. Beneath them lay what looked to be a sheet of plywood. Bare nails glinted up at the three in all their unfinished ugliness. "These tiles aren't even adhered. Start ripping it up here?" he asked Treize, still looking to the ginger haired man for direction after all this time. Old habits died hard.  
  
"No. Not here. Go to the edges. If whatever is holding this floor up is weakening, we don't want to put more weight on it. Maybe there's some sort of hole somewhere," the ginger haired man replied, that dark cracking sound that came when the lid hit the floor echoing in his ears. The caskets had just been stage dressing, perhaps a diversionary tactic meant to keep someone busy and moving around while putting more and more stress on supports meant to fail.  
  
"I found it!"  
  
Both men edged towards Noin as she pulled the black tarp away. A four-foot by four-foot hole lay beneath the covering, leading down into darkness. Shining their lights down, Noin's soft gasp was all the sound they made as the beam of illumination fell on what looked to be a slender leg clad in black.  
  
"I'm going down," Millardo announced, already pulling off his leather jacket.  
  
Treize's hand stopped him as he shook his head. "No, I'll go. You're stronger than I am, and if I can't get back out on my own, you can pull me up with Noin's help easier than I could you, not to mention if… they're down there. Either set of people."  
  
A rope was quickly gotten as they lowered the former OZ leader down into the black hole. Somewhere in that darkness, the hastily set up supports groaned again. At least there wasn't another sharp sound of wood parting from wood. Reaching the squishing ground, Treize pressed his hand over his mouth, struggling not to be ill. While up on top, he had caught the scents of decay and human waste, but down here, it was ten times worse. Turning his light towards where they had seen the leg from above, the European man bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Freeze-dried food wrappers and a few empty water bottles were scattered about, most floating in the soupy muck that made up the floor. Against the wall was what looked to be Duo and Quatre. The blonde was curled up on the American's lap, his trademark yellow curls nearly plastered to his head with a dark fluid that Treize was hoping to be mud. It stood out like tar against the Arab's too pale skin. His slender hands were cuffed before him, a chain leading off of the restraints to lock on something buried in the floor.   
  
Duo's one leg was folded beneath him, the other thrown out which had been all they could see. His arms laid protectively about Quatre as if to pass whatever warmth had been in his body to the leaner frame. The braid that 02 had always been so proud of laid limply against him, the end stuck in the stinking mud. A chain led off of his ankle, disappearing into the filthy floor to join with the chain from Quatre's wrists.   
  
"Oh Kami-sama…" Treize murmured, feeling a prick of heat in his eyes. What had it been like for these two to die down here in the darkness? Alone with the rats racing over them? Their former enemy reached out a hand to touch on Quatre's face, flicking away a slug that had been trailing its way down out of the blonde's matted hair and down his cheek. Long legged spiders crept in and out of Duo's bangs, spinning their webs silently. A shiny black beetle tumbled out from where the boy's hands were clasped together.  
  
"Treeee…"  
  
Treize Khushrenda, a battle tested and brave man, shrieked as his eyes met the now open ones of Duo Maxwell. Stumbling backwards, the dull amethyst orbs slowly tracked him, the American's rusty voice coming again from his throat to call his name.  
  
"Treeee…"  
  
A slapping sound came from behind the OZ man as Millardo leaped down into the darkness, seizing his shoulder. The two of them stared in horror at Maxwell as he gasped for breath. Somehow… after two weeks… he was still alive. Millardo broke from his stunned daze first, crouching beside Duo and trying to see how lucid the boy was as well as get a feel for his pulse. Treize quickly joined him, feeling his heart still jackrabbiting within his chest. Hopeful fingers lowered to Quatre's throat, trying to find any sort of steady beat of blood.  
  
"Winner is alive too, but just barely."  
"Tell Noin to throw down the wire cutters from the shuttle. Let's get them out of here."  
  
**  
An hour later Millardo, Noin, Treize, and now Une and Sally Po stood before the three beds in the hold of the shuttle that the Germanic woman had 'acquired' to pick what she had thought would be four people up from Winner Estate in preparation for going into hiding. She had been in tears at the sight of Duo and Quatre's wasted forms, thanking the gods that she had met up with Sally earlier that night and let her in on the plan. The physician had checked over all three patients, declaring all of them well enough to be transported. IV solution flowed into the trio, the heartbeats of the younger two steadying out finally.   
  
"They'll need rest, of course, but they should be waking up soon. Heero will be fine once whatever drug cocktail they gave him wears off. Duo and Quatre are half starved and badly dehydrated, but we can take care of that easily enough," Sally announced, combing her fingers through Duo's newly cleaned and washed hair. Getting all the dirt and vermin off of them had been a trial in itself. At least neither of the pair had any permanent damage to their skin done. Upon seeing them, Sally's worst fear had been gangrene.  
  
Treize lowered his voice as he murmured quietly into Po's ear, "Was there any chip or other odd device in their skulls shown in any of the X-rays you took?"  
  
Sally shook her head in the negative, still adjusting to the presence of the former OZ leader. "There was nothing at all. Does this mean that those… clones… are still at large? No idea where they went?"  
  
Treize shook his head slowly, leaning against the foot of Heero's bed. "Not until he or one of the others wake up. All we can do now is wait."  
  
While the others headed for their own quarters, Khushrenda took the first watch. Settling within one of the comfortable chairs sat before the trio of beds, the man's piercing blue eyes settled over the sleeper's faces. There were so many questions he had to ask. 


End file.
